Veronica Lives!

I like watching TV. Maybe not as much as I used to– and mind you I could be saying that because the new TV season hasn’t started and I’m all TV-deprived at the moment– but nevertheless, I’m a fan.

But I suffer from an affliction I have learned is not uncommon amongst those who followed a now-defunct TV program with dedication and simply aren’t ready to let it go. Essentially, this condition presents as an inability to separate the character on the show from the actor who (allegedly) portrayed them. And a staunch refusal to accept that their beloved characters aren’t, in fact, real.

I am fully aware that this is a choice to live in a state of delusion, and oh what a happy place it is.

For instance, everyone from Buffy, and to a lesser degree, Angel, are actually their characters and although we do not get to watch their current adventures on a once-weekly basis, I choose to believe that they are, in fact, out there somewhere, living their lives without the benefit of my voyeurism. Sometimes we get evidence that they are doing new things– like when Buffy was in those crappy Japanese rip-off Grudge movies, I was all: “Check out Buffy. She’s doing movies now, even if they are crappy. Go Buffy.”

…Buffy watch out, that creepy Japanese kid is sneaking up on you…

Apparently Joan of Arcadia saw what Buffy was up to and thought she’d take a rest from making the concept of God accessible to liberal intellectuals and visit Japan herself.

… Joan, that is TOTALLY not Little-Girl God…

Then there’s Willow, who can be seen on a weekly basis on a TV sitcom called How I Met Your Mother. Due to the fact that I generally eschew sitcoms as ‘lowbrow’ (and never mind the fact that I love reality TV, just think of me as an enigma, OK?), I have been told that Willow is doing a good job. Apparently, she hasn’t really changed at all, except that the whole Wiccan lesbian thing isn’t really being addressed. Alas, lesbian witches with deep guilt issues aren’t considered light enough for ‘family viewing’. Prigs.

This past May, though, I suffered terribly upon learning that Veronica Mars was cancelled, although I can’t honestly say it wasn’t anticipated. Veronica is so effing cool and she routinely and soundly kicks ass. Except when it comes to romantic relationships (I mean, Duncan? Logan? Pizz, for chrissakes, PIZZ?), but I can forgive her that seeing as I personally know many effing cool, ass-kicking women who repeatedly make incomprehensible relationship choices– myself being one of them. I mourned the fact that I would no longer be privy to Veronica’s brand of uber-confident, refreshingly smug and cleverer-than-thou smart-aleck behavior, but I remained fully convinced that she smart-alecked on, just without my weekly support and approval. Which of course she doesn’t need. But despite her lack of co-dependency, I missed her regardless.

Then I learned that Veronica is coming back! She’s apparently uncovered some superpowers in the past few months and has parlayed her investigatory and verbal sparring skills into a gig on Heroes. Holla!

I hope Veronica’s track-record for relationships improves while she’s working on this project, but the photo below leaves me fearing that the woman’s going to need significant therapy before resolving her relationship issues.

Ummm, Veronica, you know that’s SYLAR, right? Please tell me this is some undercover gig, because otherwise it’s time for an intervention.

Speaking of interventions, I’m going to need one myself if the new television season doesn’t start shortly. My withdrawal is so severe that my DTs cause me to rapidly flip channels, often settling on some godawful TLC program that is nothing but an extended commercial for birth control and the benefits of tubal ligation (Nanny 911, I’m looking at you). I mean, what’s an unemployed, poverty-stricken girl supposed to do with her time?

OK. I know what you’re thinking. So let me rephrase the question: What fun things is an unemployed, poverty-stricken girl supposed to do with her time?